Author Archives: Eugie Foster

All hail the pred! Hurray for prednisone! Or else my immune system is finally feeling sheepish about the huge hissy fit it’s been having and has finally decided to settle down. I feel okay. My internal thermostat is still inclined to wonkiness, but the muscle aches are gone, as is the eye-explodingly unpleasant headache. Hurray! I really hope my system isn’t just luring me into a false sense of “I’m well.” I’m done being sick, please.

To celebrate my feeling better, Matthew took me out to eat yesterday. We went to Sam’s Gourmet Vegetarian Paradise (5750 Roswell Road – Atlanta 404-252-8878). I think I’ve mentioned them before. Totally vegan menu with a dizzying array of fake meat dishes like “Roasted Famingo” and “Braised Lam.” I had the Mandarin Fish. Yummy! If you’re an Atlantan, I highly, highly recommend them. The waitperson said that they were moving to a Midtown location in a couple months. While I’m sure it’s probably a better location for them, I’m bummed. They’re reasonably close to us where they’re at now.

Watched what was obviously the original Firefly pilot last night. Okay, whatever Fox committee decided to air something else as the intro to the series needs to be shot. A lot. It was so much better than the original first episode they aired. Actually, the last several Firefly episodes have been really good. I was just starting to think: “Hey, this show has potential. I’m seeing the trademark Joss genius coming through. I’m getting sucked in.” And, of course, Fox cancels it. Sigh. Dammit.

Today, I want to soak in the hot tub, go Christmas shopping, see a movie, eat Christmas cookies and candy, and wrap prezzies! So many holiday festivities to catch up on, so little time! RAH!

Haven’t been very active on LJ recently. Sitting at the computer is just too exhausting. I am so tired of being sick. I thought I was over the worst of it, but then I get hammered by another bout of the sickies. Dammit. My fever keeps cresting and dropping. I feel like I’m on a roller coaster of hot-cold-hot-cold. My head feels like little men with hammers are trying to break free from the inside, and my muscles feel like I’ve run two marathons and then been hit by a wrecking ball. It hurts to lie down and I’m too tired to sit up. Stupid immune system. It needs a firm kick in the shins.

But I got another prescription from my rheumatologist. Prednisone. Whee. More steroids. Hopefully, these meds’ll do the trick.

On the writing front, I’ve hit a snag in the novel progress. I’m just having a hard time getting the words to come out. So, I took a little break from it and penned a short folktale. Two thousand words came rattling out sweet as I could want in exactly two days, start to finish. Not too shabby. Tossed it up on Critters. Not in any hurry as the main market I’d want to send it to (Cricket) is still looking over the re-write of my kitsune story and I don’t like having more than one thing under consideration at the same market. Seems like a bad idea to compete against myself.

We’ve still got a lot of Christmas shopping to do. This whole me being sick thing continues to set us back. But Matthew has been making every effort to make the holidays cheery even with me twitching feverishly on the couch most of the time. This has mostly translated into festive dinners. Tuesday he made portabello mushroom ravioli with fresh garlic bread. And if that wasn’t enough, he baked a Dutch apple pie for dessert! Yummy! And yesterday he made a mushroom rice casserole with the same mushroom ‘n onion gravy from Thanksgiving with faux sausage on the side. Mmmm. My hubby is quite the kitchen santa.

Um, but I’ve resolved not to get on the scale until next year. It’s just safer that way.

Haven’t seen Two Towers yet. Hope to this weekend. I’ve been trying to avoid any and all spoilers . . . not that I don’t know the story, but still.

Went to the Fantasm staff meeting yesterday. Agh. The traffic was miserable. Road construction bad. Evil, evil road construction. Made it there nearly half an hour late. Sigh. But Matthew was able to get with several people he needed to, while I tried not to get in anyone’s way and got to smile and wave at several folks I haven’t seen since, hmm, last Fantasm.

The high point was going out for dinner at the Melting Pot with yakdog, girlsonfilm, weswilson, Andy-of-no-LJ, and Debgirl001. Excellent fondue, complicated cooking tong arrangements and dipping sauces, and good company. What more could anyone ask for?

Went home afterward to check on the little Hob and get our pimp/ho costumes constructed and as soon as we walked through the door, Hobkin launched himself into our arms (well, at my ankle really) and clung. Poor little guy. He was very lonely and very huggy.

Feeling not 100% still, and not having a heart of ice, we decided, reluctantly, that the best course of action would be to skip out on the “Pimps and Hos” party. Pook. Matthew had his “Cosmic Superpimp” ensemble (complete with obscene ray gun) all set out, and I was going to reprise my “Jailbait Girl” costume. But, considering how touch-and-go my immune system has been, immersing me in smoke, alcohol, and a very late night out just didn’t seem like a good idea. Sigh. Hate being sick.

We’ve got tickets to the Shakespeare Tavern tonight to see A Christmas Carol. Almost forgot with all the busy weekend things whirling about.

I’ve spent the last two nights re-writing one of my favorite stories from 2000. It’s the strongest thing I wrote, thematically and characteristically, from that year, and yet it hasn’t found a home even though two others of my stories from that year, weaker ones in my opinion, have. It has received several encouraging and in one case glowing personal rejections from good, professional markets, but it’s always been passed over.

It’s at a market currently which I expect to reject it in a matter of days (deadline for final decisions looms). So I took it out, dusted off my re-writer’s hat, and took a good hard look at it.

I ended up culling nearly one thousand words and giving it a major shake-up from beginning to end. The story, theme, and characters are still the same, but I polished up the prose and really streamlined it. Hurray and ouch. On the one hand, I’m pleased because I’ve really come a long way with my writing in a couple years, but on the other I wish I’d done this earlier, before I’d sent it to so many markets. Would those markets that rejected it buy it in the shape it’s in now? Maybe, maybe not. But I think it’s much better.

I really like this story. I hope I can find a good home for it.

Had my Rheumatologist appointment yesterday. It was actually pretty confidence inspiring. My GP doesn’t seem to be inclined to do anything other than the “she’s sick, give her antibiotics” song and dance. She asks one or two questions, looks into my ears and throat, and that’s it.

But the Rheumatologist was extremely thorough. He grilled me about my past medical history–and was quite scandalized that I hadn’t been referred to him sooner–as well as all of the symptoms I’ve been experiencing. And then he ordered up a barrage of tests including a chest x-ray and eight (eight, ouch) vials of blood for a full spectrum test. And he had me scamper back with the x-ray films straight out of radiology so he could look at them immediately.

Plus, I like him. He was sort of funny in a fatherly/grandfatherly sort of way, with a definite huff and snort about him that’s both charming and intimidating. He was also quite fascinated and amused by the fact that I have a skunk, told me it was a good thing I’d gotten a skunk and not a dog (this while he was perusing my allergy test history.) And he also gave me some more pills to take. A burst and dwindle 6-day supply of steroids, just in case the chest x-ray, which was clear, didn’t catch the underlying cause of my cough. So, hurray for the Rheumatologist.

Read and critiqued the worst, most offensive story I have ever seen on Critters the other day. I re-wrote my critique three times to de-rant it and it was still pretty castigating. The story itself was really badly written, but the part that got me was how appallingly sexist and anti-gay it was. But it wasn’t sexist and anti-gay in an in-your-face, I have a point to make sort of way, but in a this-is-just-how-it-is sort of way, which freaks me more. The author seemed to just assume that women were ruled by their hormones, their brains nothing but weak little organs geared towards obsessing about clothing and other people’s fat deposits. And the anti-gay sentiments! Agh! Women who don’t wear make-up and high heels must be lesbians, and a woman isn’t attractive if they don’t wear such things, and of course a gay person going straight would obviously get accolades for doing so from her co-workers and the medical profession . . . and . . . and . . . gah! I’m just agog thinking about it again. I nearly put it down in disgust over half a dozen times. I deserve ice cream and cookies for slogging through that whole thing.

Cross posted to

This just came down from my skunkchat list. Los Angeles County is trying to keep a qualified wildlife rehabilitator, Share Bond, from renewing her permit because she works with skunks. I am familiar with this woman’s work. Among other things, Share gets rescued skunks across the California border in a sort of underground railroad. Skunks are illegal to own as pets in CA and when they are discovered, the animal control people hand them over to her to convey across state lines instead of putting them down. She will no longer be able to do this and her wildlife rehabilitation work if her request is denied.

Please sign the petition to help her get her permit.

Click HERE to sign the petition.

Been napping with Hobkin for most of the evening. I’m not sure if a seven pound fuzz creature on my chest has actually helped my bronchial clarity, but he was warm and soft. Until he stuck his nose in my ear.

Now, I’m a bit wired. I feel disjointed, like my thought processes are ricocheting around my head and colliding with each other. Bing. Maybe it’s just the fever.

I suspect I’m just going to ramble for a bit, so I’ll be merciful and put everything else behind an lj-cut.

Continue reading →

Went to work today. Shouldn’t have. Got woozy and light-headed peering at my monitor. I stuck it out for three hours, just long enough to get a little testing in order so I could hand it off to one of my team members, before throwing in the towel. Driving home was a little scary. I think I made some questionable driving decisions, but fortunately there wasn’t a lot of traffic.

In other news, I got email notification from an anthology market to inform me that they got my submission. They also said in their note:

“I will be reading it this weekend…although I must say, when I opened the story and read the first line, it certainly got my attention. Nice beginning.”

So now my hopes are soaring . . . on the basis of a complimentary sentence on my opening line. Argh.

Rejectomancy and acceptomancy are dual roads to writerly insanity.